


Fire

by AngelofPerdition



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:50:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofPerdition/pseuds/AngelofPerdition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Castiel had to describe Dean Winchester in one word, it would be 'fire'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

If Castiel had to describe Dean in one word, it would be ‘fire’. Beautiful, mesmerizing, destructive, awful, hot.

It’s also a great description of their relationship: it started with fire, it still is fire, and it will probably end with fire. Or maybe, but he hopes not, like fire: cold and anticlimatic. 

He still remembers the first time he met Dean, and he thinks maybe that’s the reason he associates him with fire. 

He’d never been outside of Heaven before, not like this. Hell was terrible, but of course that was the understatement of the century. Fire and pain and terror, but Castiel’d had a task, one he was determined to complete. Dean’s soul had been brighter than the others, yet somehow darker than the demons, and he knew he’d been too late. The righteous man had broken, and so had the first seal. Nothing that could be done about it. He still took the broken soul into his arms and flew up, returning him to the world of the living. He thought he’d left the fire behind, but he hadn’t. He’d taken the brightest, hottest, wildest flame with him. The inferno that was Dean Winchester. Like the other angel’d said, he’d been lost since he first laid a hand on him.

Castiel knew that the fire was still there, inside. On the outside, it barely showed. Castiel knew, though, and he was fascinated. How could humans keep so calm while they were burning? But no, it wasn’t that, it wasn’t humans. It was Dean. Dean, with a poker face that could even hide the agony inside.

Dean was fire when he hunted. Beautiful, mesmerizing, destructive, awful, hot. Determined to kill every single evil son of a bitch that crossed his path. 

Soon, Castiel learned that loving Dean was fire, too. It was overwhelming and too much and not enough and perfect. Every look, every touch, every kiss, was just heat and fire and desire, and Castiel was drowing, drowning in flames, Dean’s hands and lips and words leaving burning marks on his skin, his true form, his soul.

And in the end, it was Dean’s fire, Dean, that saved him. Dean who forgave him everything that should never be forgiven. Still forgave him because his fire burned brighter, hotter, wilder when they were together. 

They say burning is the worst way to die, the most slow and painful way, but if Castiel had to go, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because the last thing he would feel would be the thing he craved the most: Dean Dean Dean Dean.

He’d gladly burn forever if that was what it took.


End file.
